


with a whisper we will tame the vicious seas

by Veniae



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:12:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veniae/pseuds/Veniae
Summary: Lazy Sundays in the Van Eck-Fahey home, painting, and Jesper getting along with the only in-law that matters.





	with a whisper we will tame the vicious seas

Jesper wakes up in an empty bed. 

He rolls over on the soft mattress, groping around, but the sheets are cold and deserted. He lets out a disgruntled whine and forces an eye open. 

Wylan’s bedroom is quiet and dusky, with warm light filtering through the red velvet of the curtains. There’s a faint crack between them, and the spear of light passing through is so short that Jesper feels a jolt of panic.

Then he remembers there’s nothing to be late for. He sits up and rubs his eyes. His body feels warm and sluggish and heavy with sleep. He yawns and it’s so long that for a moment, he’s worried he’s going to dislocate his jaw.

He never changed into his nightwear the night before, and the shirt and pants he wears to lounge at home are a wrinkled mess. He’s only glad he didn’t strangle himself with the straps. 

Wylan and him spent the evening in his bedroom, forgoing dinner to share leftover pastries in bed. Jesper read aloud a book on Zemeni history until Wylan fell asleep on his chest.

He must have nodded off soon afterward, and slept for a while. It’s Sunday, he remembers now that he’s awake enough, and Sundays are when Wylan visits his mother.

Usually, Jesper accompanies him. He feels momentary guilt that he missed it this time. Then, he yawns again. Maybe it was for the best.

Well, with nothing else on the agenda but waiting for Wylan to return, he might as well get some more sleep. He slides back down and settles under the covers, enveloped by the smell of soap and lavender and Wylan’s perfume. It’s cosy and comforting. His eyelids quickly grow heavy.

He makes a mental note to thank Wylan for letting him sleep in.

* * *

The next time he wakes up, it’s to Wylan brushing his fingers through his hair. The curtains are open and the room bathes in bright light.

Jesper grins at his boyfriend. “What time do you call this?” he croaks. 

Wylan laughs softly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up when I left. You seemed like you needed the sleep.”

Jesper stretches and pushes up to press a kiss to Wylan’s cheek. “I’m honestly impressed you managed to get out of bed without waking me.” He gives him a crooked grin. “You may be spending too much time among the thieves and criminals of Ketterdam.”

Wylan rolls his eyes. “You do know you sleep like a log.”

“I don’t!”

“Do too. Remember that time I dropped a full tray on the floor?  _ You didn’t even stir.” _

“You keep saying that, but I’ve yet to see any proof.” Jesper looks at him under his eyebrows until Wylan can’t bite back his grin any longer, and the drops his head on his shoulder. “How was it with your mum?”

“It was nice. She’s doing well, I think. Better.” Wylan reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together. “Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about regarding that.”

Jesper hums, looking at their joined hands. “What is it?”

“Well…” Wylan trails off, but Jesper simply waits. Lets him reach his point at his own pace.

Jesper Fahey knows some words take longer than others.

“She’s been painting more. Different things and new people, too. You know it helps her.”

Jesper nods, silently. He remembers the small drawing of Wylan that he swiped the first time they met her. It still kindles a white-hot fury in his chest to imagine Marya Hendriks, cast off and forgotten, with only her art to connect her to what was taken from her. And Wylan, raised on more lies than the Dregs can come up with in a week, robbed of the one person who truly cared about him.

Not anymore, though. Things are better now, he reminds himself.  

Wylan interrupts his thoughts when he says: “She wanted me to ask you if she could paint you.”

“Paint… me?” Jesper echoes.

Wylan lets out a giggle that’s all too endearing. “She likes you. I may or may not talk about you sometimes.”

“Only good things, I hope.”

“I’m not a liar, Jesper.”

He laughs dryly. “Very cute, merchling. I almost believed you for a second.”

He doesn’t use the nickname as often anymore, and now it earns him a shove with Wylan’s shoulder and quiet laughter. 

“When does your mum want to do it?” he asks.

Wylan cranes his neck to look at him. He bites his lip for a second, and it takes a good deal of Jesper’s self-control not to lean in and kiss it. “She suggested next week,” Wylan says, “but if you don’t want to…”

Jesper grins and squeezes his fingers. “Next week’s perfect.”

* * *

It’s Sunday a week later and Jesper’s collar is itching. 

He’s opted for an ensemble in subdued reds and oranges, and while the tweed of his jacket is very pleasing for the eye, it’s proving to be a bad fit for the humid, oppressive Ketterdam afternoon.

He wants to scratch his neck so desperately.

He curls and uncurls his fingers and curbs the impulse. 

Ms. Hendriks puts out the hand she’s holding the brush in and squints one eye, measuring his proportions. Jesper takes deep breaths and tries to seem relaxed and confident where he’s seated on the plush armchair. His eyes meet Wylan’s and he gets a reassuring smile. Wylan’s hovering behind his mother, fidgeting without interruption as if he had to make up for Jesper’s stillness.

Jesper returns the smile, along with a discreet thumbs-up. Wylan giggles behind his hand.

It’s another hour before Ms. Hendriks puts down the brush. “We can stop here for today. Would you be able to resume it next week, Jesper?” Her voice is soft and quiet, but Jesper can swear he can hear Wylan’s inflection in it. Or the other way around, he supposes. It makes him like Ms. Hendriks even more.

“I’m not sure--” Wylan starts to interject, but Jesper smoothly cuts him off.

“Next week would be great.” He means it, too, despite the soreness in his shoulders and his stiff neck. He enjoys watching Wylan’s mother paint, and him chime in with the occasional comment or suggestion in an undertone, and he enjoys sharing tea with them, when Wylan assures him taking a sip won’t disturb the painting.

It makes him feel like part of the family.

For now, though, he gets to his feet and stretches. He lingers by the armchair while Wylan helps his mother put away her painting supplies. He examines the painting--Jesper isn’t allowed to look yet, Ms. Hendriks wants him to only see the finished thing--and points at something on the canvas. Then, his eyes dart to Jesper and a mischievous smile curls his lips.

Jesper wants to cross the room and kiss the grin off his face, but he settles for a wink.

Wylan flushes a bright red.

* * *

They’re walking home, later, after they make plans with Wylan’s mother to pick it up again next Sunday, and Jesper drapes his arm around Wylan’s shoulders.

“So, is the painting coming along well?” he leans in to ask.

Wylan hums. “Yes, it looks pretty good.”

“Not  _ dashingly handsome?” _ He gives him a weak attempt at a pout.

Wylan grins, in that way he does when he’s about to say or do something he knows is going to surprise him, and says: “Well, it’s not quite like the real deal yet, no.”

Jesper laughs, feeling his face heat up. This time, he lets himself pull Wylan closer and cover his whole face with kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> so this was my first stab at six of crows fic, and i had to give my favourite boys some well-deserved warmth and softness. i hope you enjoyed this pure unbridled fluff! hmu on [my tumblr](http://veniaebot.tumblr.com) so we can scream about these kids together
> 
> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
